The Consultant's Daughter
by thyscifigeek2yee
Summary: A young girl named Madeline goes on a search her deceased mother has left her and that is to find her father Sherlock. This is my first time posting a story, hope I did well :3.
1. Chapter 1

Sitting alone in the brightly lit lab, Sherlock reviewed some meager research he was conducting, enjoying the eminent silence that allowed him and his thoughts to exchange banter. Lestraude had given him cases that he and Scotland Yard had been walking circles in and of course ran to the only man they knew would help, for the sake of his own enhancement of knowing where to find the right things. As of recently, Sherlock had been bothered by the blackened hole in his memory to which he knew absolute nothing happening between those days, and was only left with a annoyingly red, and persistent itch on the bone of his thumb joint. He irritated the pale skin more, until the it bled, allowing him to state at the small for of mortal crimson with deep scrutiny; the lost recollection of those few days bothering him greatly. Madeline's search started for her father just 4 weeks ago. She came to the last address on the list of Sherlock's, 221B Baker Street.

Madeline rang the bell and a older woman came to the door. "Is Sherlock at home?" She asked. "No but his friend is would you like to talk with him?" "Yes please, I'm Madeline by the way." "oh what a lovely name you can call me Mrs. Hudson." Madeline had already stepped in."

He's just up the stairs his name is john." "okay and thank you Mrs. Hudson." She went up the stair and knocked on the door frame and saw a man in a chair on his laptop he looked up. "Your john right?" He set his laptop on the table. "Yes I am and you are?"

"I'm Madeline, I came here for Sherlock but Mrs. Hudson said he was out, do you mind if a stay till he comes?" "Um yeah but may I ask why you need Sherlock?" "I just need to ask him a couple questions, nothing weird or anything like that though." Madeline felt awkward even though she had only done this 3 other times and rehearsed it in her head. Disturbed by the violent vibration from his pocket, he fished out the pink covered cellphone and red the message clear on his opened screen. [Sherlock, there's a little girl here at the flat...She's asking for you. -JW]

It wasn't a normal thing, girls especially asking anything remotely of him, his head cocking to the side as he reviewed the message several times over. Furiously he texted back before, throwing his phone off to the side, and continuing back to his work. Not a moment later didn't his phone respond with a subtle pip and he lifted it up again; icy orbs reviewing the next message. [She says it's urgent. Come on, Sherlock. She needs your help. -JW]Sherlock sighed, canceling out whatever he decided to type and close his phone, going back to his work quietly. If it was urgent, it could wait a moment.

Madeline was sitting on the couch zoning out on the floor. She slightly jumped when John said something. "come again?" "Would you like some tea?" "Um sure thank you." She decided to write in her journal since Alexis, her best friend wanted to know every detail of the journey.

Alexis had also tattooed the front to remind Madeline that she was waiting for her. "Here you go." John set Madeline's tea down. "What's that?" "oh its my journal my friend wants to know every thing that happened so I'm technically forced to write it down." She chuckled. "That's nice, Sherlock should be here any minute now."

Strolling inside, Sherlock opened the door to the small child sitting on his couch, conversing with John and frowned. He peeled away the black gloves from his hands, ice eyes flickering from John to the dark haired girl. "And you are?" he muttered, his eyes flitting over her with quick studious movements, taking in all her familiar features. "Um M-Madeline." She set her journal where she was sitting. "It's nice to meet you." She was nervous but did her best to hide it. Sherlock slipped out of his coat, hanging it on the hook beside the door as he rolled up his sleeves and looked to the girl with an expectant glare. "Well...What do you need? This was urgent, well?!" he said impatiently. It felt like his eyes were bearing into her soul.

"Do you remember a Vanessa wilder, you met her 13 years ago." John took his cup of tea and went into the kitchen. "No I do not, and what relevance does her name have to me?" he asked, raising a brow at the young girl. "Um, ah I think you might be my father." Madeline couldn't handle his stare/glare she stared at the floor waiting for his reply she felt immensely embarrassed and like an eight year old. Sherlock looked at the girl with a bewildered expression, his alert eyes now seeing the features that vaguely look his own.

"Who are you...Where's the facts...Or your mother. That's an awfully bold claim young lady, prove it to me." he challenged, sneering stiffly to her. Madeline's heart was in her throat. "I'm Madeline, I only have a vague description of you by my mom and, and a year after I was born she, got in a car wreck that killed her instantly we can do a DNA test to have proof." I was now looking at him scared and ready to cry. Her mothers death was always a touchy subject . 'what wrong with me? why is this so hard?' She thought.

"You're mother? I've never been intimate with a woman so I'm sure you have me mistake with someone else. Uh, John...show her to the door please. I have things to attend to." He cooly he ignored her, brushing her off as he made his way deeper into the flat. Madeline was staring in the same spot where Sherlock was. his words echoed in her head and was piercing her heart like broken glass. Tears started streaming down Madeline's face as a sudden rage bubbled to the surface. She looked over to where he was and opened her mouth but quickly changed her mind and started crying quietly.

John had brought her, her journal she snatched it and made way out the door. Her cab was still waiting for her, she got in it. "Sherlock you shouldn't of blown her off like that, you could of at least been nicer about it!" "What for?" She led me to believe this was something urgent, but it wasn't...I've not the time to listen to some little girl's sob story over her mother." he rolled his eyes, flailing his hand as he began to tinker with things across his messy and cluttered kitchen table."Still you could of said sorry which you didn't."

~oOo~

Madeline got to hotel and quietly cried her self to sleep on the bed.

~oOo~

"She even looked like you, any one could tell if you two were related. I was so incredibly shocked at how much she looked like you." John said a crossed across from Sherlock. Sherlock paused, thinking over the features of the girl carefully once more and sighed, "I noticed them too, but there's no...credentials, no evidence! Why bother helping to someone who brings me a whim! A thought, an idea, John." he twisted around the kitchen, leaning back against it before biting his lip with his arms crossed; the girl's piercingly similar blue eyes striking him again. "You should know this, John... With no diagnosis, how do you begin to save a life?" He looked at his friend, deeply genuine and waited for his answer. "Well, you find one right?"

~oOo~

Madeline was in a dream just floating alone in the dark then she started falling into an endless fall, suddenly she hit the bottom and woke up only to find her self on the floor. there was a knock at the door.

~oOo~

He shook his head in protest, grabbing up his violin and stomping towards his room. "Then that's just buying false time."  
John sighed he'd given up protesting for now. He picked up a Phone number that Madeline had left. 'I wonder why she seemed so upset?' john thought, he was going to call her later.

~oOo~

Madeline quickly composed her self and went to the door, an agent was there. "Oh hello." "Hello Miss, I'm here because Dr. Richmen was wondering how you were." "please come in, I'm fine." "Have you talked with Sherlock yet?" "yes I have and I'm going to give him a bit to call me, it didn't go as planed but I think he'll call." "Do you need anything and how long to you plan to stay?"

"Ah a few pounds would do I was going to go shopping for my friend, and I only need two more days or I might be staying." he nodded. "I will have you money sent here in 5 minutes." "Thank you." he nodded again and left. I sat on my bed and sighed. A few minutes later my cell phone when off.

"Hello, is this Madeline? This is Dr. John Watson...Friend of Sherlock's. Is everything alright?" he said gently. "Oh!, hello John, yeah its pretty alright. I didn't mean to have a melt down, I was stressed out and he was asking too much from me at the time," She chuckled lightly. "I almost had a panic attack, I feel like a retard." her accent was suddenly American. "I'm sorry to worry you john." "Please, there's no problem. He was just being...unreasonable. I bet he was just as surprised as you were to see him; don't take it personally. Understand?"

He said light heartedly, speaking as someone who has known Sherlock for a long time. "I do myself get like that every now and then and I won't, hey I'm going to stay here two more days do you think you can maybe change his mind? I can get him evidence that I'm related to him I…" She sighed. "I don't want to go back to the orphanage or _Richmen_." "Oh...Well, I'm not sure what good I can do. But I'll try talking to him for you. Alright..." "Okay thanks john" "Of course, I'll do my best and let you know if he can be civil." he chuckled lightheartedly, looking to Sherlock sat the table contemplating over his tea.

"Let's hope this goes over well." Some one knocked on her room door. "Okay well I got to go bye John and again thank you." " bye." "Are you Miss Richmen by any chance?" A bellhop asked. "yes I am."

"This came for you at the door." "Did they leave their name?" Madeline grabbed the box cautiously. "No only that it was for you" "Okay, thanks." She closed the door, threw the box on the bed and started watching T.V till her money came.

~oOo~

Sherlock peered up to John, before back down to his tea, using a dropper in the milk to disperse it with in. "Well? What did she want?" "Nothing, I called her to make sure everything was alright ." John drank some of his tea. "So something happened?" he asked, delicately experimenting with his tea, using odd things to mix and stir before finding himself satisfied and pouring it out to start again. "No but you were her last hope Sherlock, and probably still are."

"What hope am I to her...I don't know her, and frankly I'm not sure I want to. She does nothing to progress me, and I can't focus with her blubbering nonsense to me." He sighed exuberantly, and leaned on his palm. "I suppose though I can listen to what ever it is she bloody wants from me." "she wants to know if you are her father," John knew he was saying what Sherlock already knew. "I think we should do a DNA test what do you think though?"

~oOo~

Wonder what's in the box? It could be dangerous or nothing harmful at all. Madeline thought. She cautiously opened the box. Her heart stopped, it was a small bomb. Her mind froze but She managed to get out of the room and two feet down the hall just as the bomb went off.**  
**~oOo~

"I can humor her, John...But that's all it'll..." he stopped as he looked past John out the window to see the smoke billowing outside within the city, his face twisting into an angry glare. "We better get down to Scotland Yard...Lestraude'll probably be having a fit already." Swiftly he went to his coat, swinging open the front door as Mrs. Hudson came to announce to the boys. "Sher-...John, do you know what happened? I've just heard their was a bombing in the old hotel a few blocks from here...Are you-" "JOHN, NOW PLEASE." Sherlock demanded of him as he escaped down the stairs.  
~oOo~

Madeline was on the floor when She regained conciseness and quickly got up. She started her way to the stairs with a small group of strangers. Her mind was racing faster than ever before trying to understand what happened. A couple of fire fighters helped the others and Her. She was sitting in a police car because others had gotten hurt worse than her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sherlock and John. She glanced at the pair.

~oOo~

Sherlock jogged to the local officers, his face in horrid distress as he began he greatest acting lines in present. "Please, sir, I-I need to get in there! I left the hotel just a moment, and...please my daughter is in there I have to know she's safe!" he confided in the man who looked spineless and therefore sympathized with the fear struck 'father'. "U-uh sure, just...please don't go any higher than the few floors!" Sherlock extended his arm out to John, whispering for him to wait as he advanced past the tape and towards the hotel.  
"Wait!" Madeline yelled out surprised he passed her.

"Sherlock I'm right here!" She didn't want him to go in there. She jogged to him and John. She looked into his eyes. "Y-you actually..." She'd over heard what he had said and was unable to finish her sentence. Looking quiet surprised as if he hadn't at all expected to see Madeline there, he breathlessly panted to her before speaking.

"Oh hello...You. What are you doing here?" he asked, the facade of his remote concern for her was wiped clean from his visage. "Shouldn't you be somewhere other than a explosion site...?" "What?, I almost just to blown the bloody hell up!, obviously I'm here!" She was mad that he had no concern after he was concerned. His face grew firm, yet cool like much of a scolding father. "You should be out of the way! For all I know, you had caused this and could damn well leave most of London in a idiotic panic! Look, whatever it is you need from me...I'll help you. But don't think I'm doing it to be 'nice'."

"fine." Madeline crossed her arms. "I want a blood test to see if you are my father and then I'll most likely leave." It hurt her to say leave because She didn't want to. "Oh and _Richmen_ will want to hear from me, can I borrow a cell?" She said the name Richmen with disgust. "Richmen, who is-John..My phone?"

he asked, impatiently holding out his hand to the blonde fellow who inturn reached for the pink cased phone inside of Sherlock's own coat pocket. "You really need to start getting your own phone, Sherlock." He muttered, though was promptly ignored. "A blood test fine, but if in turn knowing I was your father, what good will that do you? I obviously have nothing to provide." "Richmen is an American doctor that adopted me I never liked him but he did fund all of this, but you do, you can give me a better place to live. I can have anything and every thing I want, but I don't want that I want a real family and that's only some thing he can partly provide, plus I fit in a corner and don't have anything besides my SD card and flash drive." She grabbed the phone and called Dr. Richmen to tell him she's fine and didn't need any thing.

**~oOo~**


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock frowned and rolled eyes to the young girl with a sigh, "I'm not understanding what sort of...image you have of me! I'm not...father material." he groaned, looking to John and angrily to the girl. "Fine, I'll help you...But I'm not doing it for you..." "I just...okay, so lets do this crap." Madeline smiled a small smile. Sherlock scoffed at her spunk, though it questionably reminded him of himself and grabbed her back the nape of her coat, pulling her back. "And just where do you think your going? Do you have any remote idea what you're getting yourself into...?"

He took her by surprise. "hey!, I just left my flash in the car. Most likely not but me not knowing what I want to know will drive me insane and I'd rather keep my sanity thank you very much." His face twisted, and scoffed, "What flash! I don't think you fully understand what you're putting yourself into and I sure as hell will leave you if you don't straight up and THINK. CLEARLY." John looked to the little girl and sighed, breaking her of her of the grip that generally made Sherlock a lot scarier. "I think what he's trying to say...Is that you're too young to just go rushing about this wrong way; something serious could happen and now.., We're responsible for you. Isn't that right Sherlock? ...Sherlock?" John twisted around before seeing the taller, ignorant man stomp off toward the conde.

they are now responsible for me? does john want to.? no he can't we only just met. damn he's scary, can't blame him though I get like that. "I can take care of my self I'm not a child, and I'm used to this. Having a bomb planted in my hands is not scary to me. I have /no/ fear and only one weakness. He's right I need to straighten up and think clearly. and what do you mean 'you responsible for me'?" Sherlock paused, turning around once he heard key words in her phrasing.

"A bomb planted in-" Swiftly he grabbed her by the shoulders, icy daggers if his eyes staring at her firmly. "I want you to tell me every detail you have of who dropped off this bomb. I want their face, skin tone, hair and eye colour. Remember EVERYTHING." he ordered with a slight panic behind his eyes.

Madleline's heart beat raised she closed her eyes to get a better picture. "It was a bell hop, he had deep blue eyes, blonde hair, a nice tan and his face...brod jaw," she stopped talking and looked to my right.

"That's him, now don't go and torment him I think It was given to him and then to me but the bomber most likely didn't want to be seen so he would have a loyal assistant to give to the front desk and then leave. this is like being at home just I'm the victim this time." "Victim or not, you've come the closest to our bomber and I'm going to need some sort of lead on that man and the one he received his bomb from. Let alone why it was deliver to you...of all people?" He sighed, did she go blabbering her mouth to someone that she was his alleged daughter, that could be what type of pawn they were using her for but other than that, no motive was presenting itself in handing a bomb to a little girl. "Dunno, thing is I've only told one person and she's in America. sorry I think out loud some times. John what were you saying earlier?" John stammered, trying to revert back to himself now that Sherlock was being unreasonable again and all it ever seemed to him was to be the reason.

"Uh, I was saying...that since you claim to be Sherlock's daughter and that you're here now...We might as well be your care takers. You are ...what 15?" "I only stated a possibility to be proven but hey I'm not complaining and no I'm only 13 then again that's how old people always think I am." John blinked looking the girl over once more again and then back at Sherlock, who was oddly biting at the nail of his thumb as he did his own surveying. "So thirteen years ago... What did you say your mother's name was again." Vanessa wilder, she had me then got in a car wreck that killed her instantly and the rest is easy." wow it's like he's in 3 places at once.

Madeline thought to her self. "Easy...?" John gulped, at the morbid turn of her personality. This had to be Sherlock's daughter... "Um yeah it should. Can we not do this at a crime seen? and do the blood test?" "Uh...what exactly?" John questioned, before he was interrupted by Sherlock's panting.

"Look, I got a lead that we can meet within the hour. Madeline...You can get your blood test and any questions from me within that time. You better make it quick." His blue eyes narrowed, his firm personality settling on her hard. "Okay well I don't know where any thing is at so lead me." Sherlock grunted with a furied expression as he escorted the girl away; beneath his breath mentioning how worthless and annoying she was. "hey! give me a minute!"

Madeline ducked away from him and John, She went to the police car grabbed her flash drive and when back to them. "Its my flash drive, I can hardly live with out it." Sherlock rose a brow, slipping slim fingers into the soft velvet gloves. "What's the purpose of relying on a silly flash drive?" Madeline didn't want to say why but she had too, and anyways he would be able to tell if she was lying. "I have stuff on here that I, shouldn't have, that is nothing that anyone would suspect me of having. I have 'spare money' you could say and 3 Identities."

Madeline looked over her left shoulder, cleared her throat looked to the ground and back to him. Madeline's lips twitched a smile. "Can you not tell anyone?" "I don't gossip." Sherlock mumbled, pushing his hands off into his pockets and strutting away, John promptly nodding his head to her. "Don't worry...He'a actually telling the truth about that." "figured, it was quite obvious but I just needed to make sure." She put her hands in her pant pockets and started to follow Sherlock.

John smiled shaking his head a she mimicked Sherlock's position and followed off after them, smiling at the pair. We got a cab and went to a place that was a morgue but it had a lab, Madeline had already forgotten the name of it John was standing by watching and was ready to help when needed. Sherlock looked at her expectantly. She held her arm up from him to grab. Madeline looked away and flinched at the little pain the needle gave her. after a few second Sherlock cleaned it. He leaned against the counter. Sherlock looked at the small girl with a scrutinizing look, his finger flicking the vile of blood before he grabbed another and plunged the needle in his own arm; sucking the crimson mortar with a soft hiss and slowly pulled it out.

"There...This should be enough to test with." he motioned, pressing a gauze to his arm, to stop the bleeding. He sat back on a stool, studying over the young girl with a soft mumble to himself, John busy reading the post off to the side with a gentle murmur. "So where did you say you were from again, Madeline? And you're mother...suicide was it?" he asked with slight scrutiny, watching her with prying eyes.

Madeline slightly bit her tongue, this was always a touchy subject. "America and no it was a hit and run, that's what the police say any ways, tried to figure it out but Richmen restricted my access to the case file, I almost got the file once before, but then it got moved to a digital copy, and locked with a completely random code." "And why do you think that is? Why would your mother's death be restricted to you, especially you?" he asked, picking up a pen and flicking it about it his hands idly, testing her. If this really was to be his daughter, a smart bone must be in there somewhere. "Because it wasn't a hit and run, and I believe that Richmen is behind all of it and his probably behind the bombing as well. there might of been evidence that he was to blame for her death, so he got out of the mess with out it going viral kept quiet and lied to me to make things 'better', then again I don't really know."

Madeline started playing a piano piece on her thigh to help her think. Sherlock smiled, maybe she wasn't such a dumb kid after all. "Mm, good start but not quite close...I'll assist you to who may have 'murdered' your mother." Madeline looked at him slightly confused but with excitement. "Really? I thought, okay, cool." She smiled to Sherlock but then quickly zoned out on the floor, Madeline practiced notes of a piece by Beethoven.

"Beethoven?" he asked, watching her movements and the notes beginning to play within his mind. "Yeah, I enjoy his stuff, same with Mozart, what 'bout you?" Sherlock shrugged, clasping his hands together across his lap. "Mm, not so much. Although I am impressed by the technical skill it takes to play, I am not a man of piano. Violin...I adore the great classics, the ultimate precision. It's not so gray scale as piano. It is right or wrong."

"Cool, so how long have you two known each other and is there any other Holmes?" Sherlock looked at John before going back to the young girl. "I've known John a little less than a year, and of course there are other Holmes'; I wouldn't be here if not so." He huffed, John taking a moment to roll his eyes into the post before folding it over and lifting the saucer of tea to his lips. Madeline pursed her lips, clearly the other Holmes hadn't passed. "So what's your thoughts on the hit and run?" She was curious about what his thought process was.

He closed his eyes and he spread out his long, thin legs in a thin line across the table; angling back in his chair. "That indeed your man Richmen is possibly an indirect connect and that it is anything but a 'hit-and-run'. Your mother was murdered." "How do you think?" a thing went ding in the background, I unconsciously cocked my head to the left. "Oh there's numerous ways to make a murder look like an accident and a hit and run is a big key, considering the number of car accidents that happen on a daily consensus and then the number of complete strangers that weren't paying attention to violent imbeciles with something to prove."

He noticed he was rambling and shook his head to rid of the floating number crunching that began and stood up to take the vials of blood from the fridge, and test them. Madeline went to where he was and watched carefully, far enough so she wasn't breathing down his neck but close enough to clearly see what he was doing. "I find your voice..." She didn't finish her sentence, because it was merely a thought that had slipped into words. "What?" he asked, looking down at her from his tall height, noticing that she was small and thin framed just as he was. Though he eyes were darker, they still held the perplexing curiosity as his.

Madeline looked up at him and blushed lightly, then looked down to her feet. "Nothing, it was nothing." She felt embarrassed. He frowned, "Speak up, I do not understand mumbling...What was it?" She Began to fiddle with the lint in her pocket. "I find your voice, comforting." Madeline said it loud enough so that he could hear her.

She glanced up at him for a fraction of a second. She felt her face get hot. She wished that he had dropped it. Sherlock raised his brows with surprise, shocked that the girl could even compile a compliment though he himself had never been particularly fond of his voice but it was nice to think she, who could possibly be his daughter find it soothing. "Uh...well..."He reached over and gently patted her head, unsure of what else to do. "Thank you."

As soon as he patted Madeline's head her mind went 'what the bloody hell'. "Any time." Sherlock continued what he was doing and she continued to watch took him a moment to gather his bearings, now wary by the girl's peering eyes and took the tubes of blood and began to test at them both, silent in concentration though he felt the hot sting of her eyes watching him cautiously. She didn't know how much time had passed, Sherlock took a step back and let out a sigh. She looked up at him.

He held out the blood speckled paper to Madeline and stared. "It's blue..." he mentioned indicating the line between the separate blood blots. "It means they match." John choked on his tea. She was bewildered and excited. Madeline opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could speak.

"So... what do, do we do?" Sherlock pushed the paper into her hands and shrugged, wiping his hands across his dark pants and beginning to walk off to grab himself a small saucer of tea. "I don't know what do we do? I honestly am not fit to raise a daughter, as I said I don't see what I could possibly provide for you." "Well maybe I could stay with another Family member?, I don't want to go back to America!" Even if it meant getting separated from her BFF, she didn't want to go back to America, She didn't have any where to go any ways. "Please, Sherlock."

Sherlock blinked to the begging child, "I...I'm not your guardian Madeline, I can't say anything to make it otherwise. Hell, just days ago I barely knew you exist...I apologize." He said genuinely, looking to her with honest and sincere blue eyes. "There's simply nothing I can do." Madeline shook her head and sighed. "Okay, well we do have a case to work on yes?"

Her heart was heavy like stone, she wanted to cry so badly. This month was going so badly, but Madeline sucked it up and carried on with a mask of fake emotion. "Maybe it's best we don't work on the case...together. You seem distraught and I'm not very skilled with consoling...Or adolesents, for that matter." "No I want to work on the case with you, because you interest me, I`m curious about you. My mind has been going in circles for a month. I just need to clear me head and frankly thats not the easyest thing right now which I don`t know why but its not." "Then fretting over your mother's death will not do anything to solve that problem. You need to take the time to concentrate and free your mind. A clear and productive mind is better than a cluttered jumble you have now."

Without realizing it, it was probably the most adult and further most fatherly thing Sherlock had ever said before, and now knowing that he had a daughter; it became the easiest to convey. It was hard to know what he was going to say, even though Madeline barely know John but she could closely predict what he is going to say. She looked at her surroundings and her watch for a second. "Are we leaving or staying cos I need half an hour." "I presume I'll keep to myself here...Watson, would you be so kind as to take Madeline home. I have work to do."

He said quietly, his slight hesitance being shown just momentarily before he sat back down and began to tinker with his things around his setting. John nodded softly with a surprised mumbled and gently put a hand on Madeline's shoulder. "Uh, where should I be taking you now?" "Your guys place would be fine." Madeline glanced at Sherlock then back to John. "Sherlock, we'll be at the flat." we hailed a cab and went to 221 B Baker st. we went in side and up stairs.


End file.
